Chekhov's "Uncle Vanya"

HI.

IT’S SHANNON.

ONE YEAR, GUYS.

One whole

Huge

Crazy

Intense

Inspiring

YEAR!

I started this blog so that I could make content -- to explore new plays as well as reach out to those who wanted to do the same. And that’s exactly what has happened. I have never solicited this blog in any way -- never mentioned it to the masses on Facebook or bought Google AdWords, but already we have over 3,500 views and counting. That’s more than almost anything I’ve ever made.

It’s almost like being famous.

So thank you.

ANYWAY. Enough of that.

(Feelings? Gross.)

This week we’re celebrating the anniversary of the blog by revisiting the playwright we started with: Chekhov, in another of his brilliant works.

UNCLE VANYA

by Anton Chekhov

Like most Chekhov this one is a little hard to explain.

I think the best way to do it is to start with what IS at the top of the play:

Vanya’s been supporting Alexander Serebraikov (hereafter called The Professor), his dead sister’s husband, for years. He breaks his back and wastes his youth to provide The Professor a living in Moscow. At the top of the play The Professor has come to live on Vanya’s plantation, and what Vanya has learned is that the man he has been giving his life to support was never the shooting star he thought he was: The Professor is in disgrace with the academic community. On top of this, Vanya is desperately in love with The Professor’s young, beautiful second wife, Yelena, making him extremely jealous of the sick man (The Professor has gout). The Professor’s gout draws Doctor Astrov to the plantation. Doctor Astrov is a handsome, overworked county doctor quickly enchanted by Yelena. The Professor’s plain daughter, Sonya, who is in love with Astrov and already resentful of her stepmother because of their proximity in age, carries her resentment for Yelena openly at the start of the play. Also present on the plantation is Vanya’s mother, Mrs. Voinitsky, who still adores The Professor; Marina, the family’s old nurse; and Telegin, a poor neighbor.

That’s where we begin.

Then… they talk. Vanya confesses his love to Yelena (again); she rejects him. He rails against The Professor. Astrov comes to visit, and drinks and complains about how busy he is. Sonya and Yelena make up over Sonya’s love for Astrov, and Yelena realizes she’s enchanted with him, too. Sonya pleads for Yelena to ask Astrov if he loves her, and if he doesn’t, to ask him to please leave. Yelena does so (he doesn’t love Sonya), but really ends up telling him that she loves him. He asks her to run away with him and kisses her (Vanya sees) and it’s way more than she bargained for. The Professor announces to everyone that he has a great plan -- sell the estate and live off the profits! Vanya, enraged, tries to shoot The Professor. The Professor and Yelena decide to leave. They do, it’s tearful goodbyes -- Astrov begs Yelena to come with him, she says no. The Professor and Vanya make up, with Vanya agreeing to go back to supporting The Professor the way he always has. The couple leaves. Then Astrov leaves as well, making Sonya miserable because she knows he’ll never be back. Sonya, Vanya, and Marina are left onstage, proclaiming that the only way to combat their misery is to work. Sonya consoles Uncle Vanya by reminding him of the promise of eternal rest, and the play ends.

Comedy, guys.

Comedy.

(No, but seriously, Chekhov wanted all productions of his plays to be hilarious.)

Anyway.

Today we are looking at

YELENA

In this monologue, Sonya has just left the room after asking Yelena to please ask Astrov if he loves her. He doesn’t, and Yelena knows this. At the top of this monologue, Yelena has no idea that she loves Astrov, but by the time she’s sympathized with Sonya, she’s realized just what she’s missing out on. The two things characters in this play say about Yelena is that she’s bored, and she’s beautiful. I (personally) think this is true, but she’s frustrated with both, in a way. Something to think about.

Sidebar: Uncle Vanya’s words to Yelena are: “My darling, my heart’s delight, use your imagination! You’ve got mermaid’s blood in your veins, so be a mermaid! Let yourself go at least once in your life, fall head over heels in love with a merman, dive in with a big splash, and leave the Herr Professor and the rest of us standing on the shore, helplessly waving our arms!”

YELENA:  (Alone.) There is nothing worse than knowing someone else’s secret when you can’t help them. He's obviously not in love with her, but why shouldn't he marry her? She's not pretty, but she's so clever and pure and good, she would make a splendid wife for a country doctor of his years...  No, that’s not the point, it’s not the point.

[A pause] I can understand how the poor child feels. She lives here in this desperate loneliness with no one around her except these colourless shadows that go mooning about talking nonsense and knowing nothing except that they eat, drink, and sleep. Among them appears from time to time this Dr. Astrov, so different, so handsome, so interesting, so charming. It's like seeing the moon rise on a dark night. Oh, to surrender oneself to his embrace! To lose oneself in his arms! I'm a little in love with him myself! Yes, I'm lonely without him, and when I think of him I smile. That Uncle Vanya says I have the blood of a mermaid in my veins: "Give free rein to your nature for once in your life!" Perhaps it's right that I should. Oh, to be free as a bird, to fly away from all your sleepy faces and your talk and forget that you have existed at all! But I'm a coward, I'm afraid; my conscience torments me. He comes here every day now. I can guess why, and feel guilty already; I should like to fall on my knees at Sonya's feet and beg her forgiveness, and to cry.

This play also has a couple other truly spectacular monologues. That final monologue of Sonya’s is one of the most famous in the western canon, but Sonya also has an excellent soliloquy about what it’s like to be plain. And Yelena has at least one other truly excellent monologue as well. So check those out!

As always,

Buy

READ

And post back!

Thanks guys!

Again, it’s been amazing to have had a full year with you.

This has been

SOMEONE MONO-BLOGGING

and again,

I’M SHANNON

ENJOY!

"Saint Joan" by Bernard Shaw

HI.

IT’S SHANNON.

So you may not know this,

but I have a BA in History.

(I know, random, right?)

Therefore:

I love doing history pieces (inaccurate though they often are).

This week’s play is by Bernard Shaw, who we’ve seen before for Heartbreak House, writing one of History’s greatest, most notable women. Joan of Arc. She was 17, schizophrenic, and led France to victory during the Hundred Years’ War. This in 1429, when women weren’t allowed to own property, much less lead an army. She was (rather famously) burned at the stake in 1431, and later canonized by the Catholic Church. What a woman! Now, there’s something interesting to consider here: Shaw is English. Joan of Arc led the French to defeat England at this point in the war, and therefore by English playwrights is often (literally) demonized. Shakespeare does this when writing her in Henry VI Part I. Shaw refrains from it, and paints a very sympathetic Joan in this play. But he’s still writing from an English perspective, so in performance, adding… insanity? to her might not be uncalled for. Just something to think about.

SAINT JOAN

By Bernard Shaw

#herstory, ammirite?

We enter the play in 1429 with Captain Robert de Baudrincourt, a swaggering squire. His chickens are not laying eggs, and Baudrincourt’s oft-berated servant claims that the cause is a local maid who has taken up at Baudrincourt’s door and won’t be turned away. Already the soldiers are loyal to her. Baudrincourt demands to see her, and Joan enters, young and docile, asking for an escort of three soldiers and a horse to get to Charles, the defeated Dauphin. Her voices have told her that God has commanded her to help Charles drive the English from France. Eventually, Robert gives in. The scene skips to the Archbishop and the rest of the court, arranging a deception for Joan -- she’ll have to spot Charles, even though he’s swapping places with one of his nobles. She does so easily, and the population and Charles are convinced that it is a miracle, giving the reluctant prince the courage (with God) to go to war. He sends Joan to Orleans, and the west wind that had been plaguing the French for months suddenly disappears upon her arrival, earning her a loyal friend in Dunois, Charles’s general. But pride begins to overtake Joan, and as she crowns Charles at Rheims and gains power through her popularity and visions, the members of the court begin to turn against her, most specifically the Archbishop, who vows against her as she demands more battles. She is captured by the English, who try her for heresy after debating the nature of it. She is brought to court, and under the pain of their torture, agrees to sign a confession admitting that her voices are of her own invention. When she learns of the prison sentence still in store for her, she accepts death at the stake in favor of it. They sentence her to burn at the stake and follow her offstage. Warwick reenters alone, and is soon met by the repentant Chaplain and Lavenau, who bear witness to Joan’s generosity, even as she was burning. The final scene is 25 years later, on the night that Joan has been cleared of the charges that burned her, as King Charles (now the Victorious) dreams that Joan and many of the others appear to him, asking Joan for forgiveness. She forgives them one by one, and they are joined from a priest from the 1920s, who announces Joan’s canonization. Joan recognizes that saints can work miracles, and offers to rise from the dead. All characters in the room, including Charles, despising having professed to love her, ask her to remain dead. Joan’s final words are “...”

We are looking at the only woman in this play:

JOAN

Joan actually has two great speeches in this play, one at the end of Scene 5, and this one. This is the final scene. Joan has surrendered the only thing she has left -- the truth of the voices she believes comes from God. Tortured to the edge of sanity, she has finally admitted to preserve herself that the voices are of her own invention, that she lied about being led by God, and that her preference of dress, hair, and warlike spirit are sins. She has given up everything, signed listlessly away. And then they condemn her to perpetual imprisonment: “the sorrow of bread and the affliction of water”. She tears up her confession, and says:

JOAN: Light your fire: do you think I dread it as much as the life of a rat in a hole? My voices were right. Yes: they told me you were fools (the word gives great offence) and I was not to listen to your fine words, or trust in your charity. You promised me my life, but you lied (indignant exclamations). You think that life is nothing but not being stone dead. It is not the bread and water I fear. I can live on bread, when have I asked for more? It is no hardship to drink water if the water be clean. Bread is no sorrow, water no affliction. But to shut me from the light of the sky and the sight of the fields and flowers, to chain my feet so that I can never again ride with the soldiers or climb the hills, to make me breathe foul, damp darkness and keep from me everything that brings me back to the love of God when your wickedness and foolishness tempt me to hate him. All this is worse than the furnace in the Bible that was heated seven times. I could do without my warhorse, I could drag about in a skirt, I could let the banners and the trumpets and the knights and the soldiers pass me by and leave me behind like they leave the other women if only I could hear the wind in the trees, the larks in the sunshine, the young calves crying through the healthy frost, and the blessed, blessed church bells that send my angel voices floating to me on the wind. I cannot live without these, and by your wanting to take them from me, from any human creature, I know that your counsel is of the devil, and mine is of God.

Powerful. I'm so into it.

And there you have it! Enjoy! As always, read the play (you can get the .pdf of it online!) and post your version!

Once again, this has been
SOMEONE MONO-BLOGGING

and

I’M SHANNON.

ENJOY!

Game of Love and Chance, by Marivaux

HI.

IT’S SHANNON.

This is a very old and virtually unknown play (by anyone who doesn’t have a BFA in Theatre Studies). Marivaux, a contemporary of Moliere in early 18th-century France, was one of the first writers to give the upper classes and lower classes equal say onstage. The France he was writing from was only 50 years from its famous revolution, and several of Marivaux’s plays were outlawed because of increasing social tension. But they’re funny, farcical, and short, so there’s no reason we can’t include them on this blo. They make a very good “Oooooh, you’re doing that?” When an auditioner asks you for a Classical monologue (because really, who hasn’t seen a hundred Rosalinds?).

Without further ado,

I announce

Le Jeu De L'Amour et du Hasard

(The Game of Love and Chance)

By Pierre de Marivaux

The story tells of Sylvia, the high-born daughter of Orgon, who is betrothed to Dorante, a noble whose father Orgon knows well. Sylvia has never met Dorante, and prior to meeting him is nervous about what kind of man he is. With her father’s blessing, she decides to trick Dorante by switching places with her maid Lisette. Little does she know that Dorante, equally nervous, has decided to do the same thing and has switched places with his valet, Harlequin. The two nobles hit it off right away and immediately fall in love with each other. The two servants, playacting the part of noble, fall for each other, as well. But everyone is torn with the impossibility of their predicament! They each know that they’re not the class they’re pretending to be, but at the same time, can’t stand the person who they *think* is of the same class they are. Orgon, knowing both sides of the story, is highly amused. Finally, Dorante confesses to Sylvia (dressed as Lisette), that he is noble and therefore must fight the love he has. Sylvia, thrilled with the knowledge that the man she loves is in fact her betrothed, plots to make him marry her despite thinking she’s a servant, and involves her brother Mario to make Dorante jealous. Her plot works, and as soon as he proposes she confesses her true status to him. Both couples, happy in their respective pairings, dance offstage.

It’s a cute little farce, and Sylvia and Lisette both have brilliant monologues throughout the play. In fact, everyone talks quite a bit, and quite grandly to boot. Very fun.

This week we’ll be looking at

LISETTE

In this scene, she is talking to Dorante, who she thinks is Harlequin’s valet by the name of Bourguingnon (Borgin-yon). She has asked him what he thinks of his master, and Dorante (as Bourguingnon), while doing his best not to speak ill of his own name, tries to justify Harlequin’s behavior by citing that the ‘true’ Dorante is “a very different person.” Lisette, who has been entirely charmed by Harlequin’s verbosity and forthrightness, is offended on his behalf:

LISETTE: Disheartened? I’m not at all disheartened! How dare you speak this way of your master! I have found him to be much more discreet, more modest, and blessedly more down to earth than I expected, and have no reason whatsoever to complain of him! What is more, although I was at first surprised by his high spirits and although I  have learned today that men present to the world quite a different face from the one they wear in private, I am absolutely certain that that man, whoever he is, is very much himself! Furthermore, I like him, and would consider myself very fortunate indeed if, at the end of the day, he found it in his heart to ask for my hand. You may not think he is a gentleman, but I do, and I will thank you to take your divisive remarks back below stairs where they belong. I know what servants are, better than you might suppose, but I have never seen one quite like you! I had heard that you had spoken disparagingly about your master, and now I see that it is true!

DORANTE: I have never spoken disparagingly about Monsieur Durante!

LISETTE: Ha! It is obvious that you have a low opinion of him!

DORANTE: (Suppressing his anger) Madame, I wrongly sensed that you were concerned, when you asked me to tell you about him.And so I was attempting to do so candidly.

LISETTE: I think you were attempting to do something else entirely. There is something very presumptuous about the way you look at me. I don’t trust you. Bourguingnon. I don’t trust you, and I don’t like you.

All of this should be delivered with top working-class pizazz and sass. Lisette is a recurring character throughout Marivaux’s plays (as the sassy maid, basically) and always has lots of comedic relief and attitude to provide to the play. So have fun!

And as always,

Buy, Read, Post!

This has been

SOMEONE MONO-BLOGGING

and again,

I’M SHANNON

ENJOY!

Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet"

HI.

IT’S SHANNON.

Okay, it’s happening. We’re going classic here. I know we started with Nina and all that, but trust me, this one is… bigger. And better, depending on your take. This week, we’ll be exploring my favorite monologue from one of the best and most iconic ingenue roles of all time:

ROMEO AND JULIET

by William Shakespeare

Looking at

JULIET

(of course.)

Now, you read this play in high school or university, but read it again, now. It’s brilliant. The balcony scene makes me cry every time with its innocence and earnestness, Juliet’s (often cut) tragic struggle to maintain control of a situation that is entirely out of her hands in Friar Lawrence’s cell -- ugh. Brilliant.

Doing Juliet has its danger, but it also has its freedom. Everyone has seen, read, knows, and has an opinion about this play. But if you do it well, no one will care. And the key to doing it well is DO NOT IMITATE OTHER JULIETS. I’m gonna repeat that:

DO NOT IMITATE OTHER JULIETS.

Shakespeare wrote humans, not archetypes, and finding where Juliet fits into you is just as important as nailing the verse, in my opinion. Every great actress has played Juliet at some point, and finding out what YOUR Juliet looks like is an essential part of the journey. If you walk into the room with Just Another Juliet, you’ll be walked out pretty quickly. But if you spend time with this piece and find where it lands on you, where it resonates, what you understand best about it and where you think it’s funny or quirky or interesting… that’s when you find an audition worth doing. Anyway, if you’ve been asked to bring in Shakespeare, they’ve seen everything anyway, so doing something you like is better than doing something ‘rare’.

Okay, enough ranting.

Also, I’m not going to summarize for you (#sorrynotsorry #readtheplay). Shakespeare summarized it himself, and so I’ll just use his:

Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Verona where we lay our scene.

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life,

Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

Doth, with their death, bury their parents’ strife.

The fearful passage of their death-marked love

And the continuance of their parents’ rage,

Which, but their children’s end nought could remove,

Is now the two-hours passage of their stage.

The which if you with patient ears attend,

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

(Also, two hours? Ha. Shakespeare: an optimist, ammirite?)

On to the monologue!

This is sometimes known as “the potion monologue” because it’s the scene where Juliet, having been given a potion by the Friar, is about to go into her “death-like sleep.” Despite being secretly married Romeo, Juliet has been sentenced by her father to marry the count Paris. As a means of escape the Friar has given her a potion that will put her into a sleep that will seem like death, with the promise that Romeo (newly banished) will wake her in her family’s vault after she has been buried. Pretty morbid, eh? She’s just bid her mother and (more importantly) her Nurse (her best friend), farewell for the final time, and is about to take the potion.

JULIET:

Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.

I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,

That almost freezes up the heat of life:

I'll call them back again to comfort me:

Nurse! What should she do here?

My dismal scene I needs must act alone.

Come, vial.

What if this mixture do not work at all?

Shall I be married then to-morrow morning?

No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there.

(laying down her dagger)

What if it be a poison, which the friar

Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead,

Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,

Because he married me before to Romeo?

I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not,

For he hath still been tried a holy man.

How if, when I am laid into the tomb,

I wake before the time that Romeo

Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point!

Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault,

To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,

And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?

Or, if I live, is it not very like,

The horrible conceit of death and night,

Together with the terror of the place,--

As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,

Where, for these many hundred years, the bones

Of all my buried ancestors are packed:

Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,

Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say,

At some hours in the night spirits resort;--

Alack, alack, is it not like that I,

So early waking, what with loathsome smells,

And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth,

That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:--

O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,

Environed with all these hideous fears?

And madly play with my forefather's joints?

And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?

And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone,

As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?

O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost

Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body

Upon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay!

Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.

Ugh. So good.

Juliet also has some other amazing monologues that are even MORE commonly done: “Romeo, Oh Romeo” in Act II, scene II, “Gallop Apace” in Act III, scene II, and… pretty much the whole play. Again, read the play, have fun with the monologues, and don’t let anyone tell you you can’t play Juliet: you totally can.

Once again, this has been
SOMEONE MONO-BLOGGING

and

I’M SHANNON.

ENJOY!